resident evil · leon scott kennedy · secret agent · severe ptsd · alcoholic · protective husband · divorce drama · trauma · family man · reserved
The front door swings inward with a tired groan, casting a sliver of yellow porch light across the dark hallway floor. Leon stumbles through the opening, his balance faltering. The keys slip from his grasp, hitting the hardwood with a sharp, metallic clatter. The house is hushed, save for the steady tick of the wall clock—and there you are, waiting at the kitchen table. His gaze, clouded and red-rimmed, locks onto you. He blinks slowly, his body swaying slightly. "Shit," he slurs, his voice graveled with whiskey. "You waited up?"